Road Back Home
by Siancore
Summary: This story follows on from my other story, Red Dirt Road. It sees a reunited Richonne now that they are adults. You will need to read RDR before you start this one to get the full gist of what happened with them.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, Dear Readers. This story follows on from my other story, _Red Dirt Road_. It sees a reunited Richonne now that they are adults. You will need to read RDR before you start this one to get the full gist of what happened with them. Please let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to share this; you're all amazing. Enjoy!

* * *

The small Toyota Corolla hybrid flew along the Georgian highway. The surrounding trees blurred into a mass of green as the car sped by the quiet stretch of road. Michonne could not help but smile when the sign that marked the exit for King County appeared in her sights. Upon signalling her turn, she let out a sigh of relief as she made her way back to the small town that held so many memories for her.

When she entered Main Street, she drove slowly. It did not matter how long it had been since she last saw King County, or how many changes had been made, there was always this sense of familiarity. Many of the old store fronts had changed. The streets seemed a little busier, and she was not sure she recognized the people who walked them, yet she felt the same as she did all those years ago. She felt at ease. When she had finally driven down Old Route 3, onto the red dirt road, she felt at home.

…..

After placing their luggage inside, Michonne opened the curtains to let some light inside. She had not been back in the old house since she had come home for Miss Pattie's funeral. The large house felt emptier than it had the day they buried her grandmother. Now, as she looked at the photographs adorning the walls, her heart clenched in her chest. It had only been five years since her grandmother had passed, and nearly ten since her grandfather. Yet the pain was still fresh. She exhaled loudly, and then called out to her son, André.

"Yes, mama," the six year old answered.

"Let's get to dusting," Michonne replied. "And then we'll head back into town to see Aunt Sasha."

…..

"Wow, look at you!" said Michonne, as she and Sasha fell into an embrace. "You're ready to pop."

Sasha laughed, and placed her right hand over her pregnant belly.

"I _feel_ like I'm ready to pop," she replied happily before turning her attention to André and saying, "Hey little man."

The small boy gave a shy smile, and stepped behind his mother before offering a soft, "Hello."

They all took up a seat at the diner's table and then looked over the menu. Michonne and Sasha had kept in contact over the years, through college and marriage, and Michonne's divorce. Though Michonne never visited the town where they first met, they frequently vacationed together, stayed connected through social media, and spoke on the phone at least once month.

"You know what I love?" asked Michonne. "I love the fact that in twenty years the menu here hasn't changed."

Sasha nodded her head and said, "I hear you. And it all tastes _exactly_ the same."

"It's the best," Michonne replied. "I'm tellin' you, there was this spot I liked goin' to on Saturday morning just up from our place, and in the past six or seven months, it's changed _twice_. It went from a café, to a bar that specialized in artisanal beers, back to a café _with_ a bar."

"That's crazy," said Sasha. "One thing I love about this place is things hardly ever change, and that's how I like it. The ice cream tastes the same as it did the summer we became friends."

"Does it really?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "After we're done here, we should go get some."

"What d'ya think, André?" asked Michonne. "Should we go get ice cream?"

The little boy's eyes went wide as a large, bright grin crept over his face.

"Yes, please," he answered.

"Alright, then," Michonne said. "Ice cream it is."

…..

By the time Michonne and André were finished in town, the sun was hanging low in the cloudless sky. Though it was still warm, Michonne turned off the air-conditioning in the Hybrid and rolled down the windows. The smell of blossoms and ripening peaches filled her nostrils. The scent of the red dirt road had not changed, too. The wind that swept into the car reminded her of the times she and Rick sped down the road in his GTO. She smiled as she recalled that time in her life when she was young. How a lot of her worries and pain fell away when she first met him. How, for a long time, he was everything to her, even after they broke up.

She had not seen Rick for almost ten years. It was when her grandfather died, and his remains were returned to his little home town in Georgia. Rick had seen her at the funeral, and instinct made him want to go to her. Amid the flurry of mourners, he offered his condolences, and she offered hers upon recalling that his wife had passed earlier in the same year. They did not speak again, not even at the wake, as Michonne was too busy comforting and taking care of her grandmother. She and Miss Pattie returned to New York the very next day, finding it too painful to remain in the old house.

Rick was unable to make it to Miss Pattie's funeral, which he regretted deeply, but he sent Michonne a card. She still kept it in a small box on the top shelf of her closet, along with other things that made her too sad to think about. Sighing, she pulled onto the driveway of her grandparents' property; _her_ property, since they had left it to her. She glanced to where the blackberries grew wild.

She smiled when she remembered the first time she met Rick and Jeff. The spot where she was kneeling down and picking the berries now had a large 'for sale' sign standing in it. She reminded herself to point out to prospective buyers, when they come to inspect the property over the weekend, that there were many opportunities to grow produce.

…..

"Carl?" called Rick as he stood at the backdoor of his family's home on the farm. "Come on in and wash up."

The fourteen year old sighed, and hugged the dog one more time before he turned and made his way toward his father. Rick patted him on his back as the boy stepped inside. He waited a moment, and looked out over the farm where he had grown up. Every time he visited, he was overcome with a sense of nostalgia.

His parents, now elderly, had moved from the property some years ago, and bought a small house in town. It was more convenient for them, and Jeff was doing well managing their dairy farm. They still had their traditions, though, and spent most Sunday evenings having a roast dinner with their whole family. Rick had taken his son over early so that he could help Grandma Sheila with preparing the food; Carl loved being out in the old house. He often asked his father to regale him with stories from when he was a teenager. Rick made sure to only tell him about the good times, and there were plenty of good times; there were _great_ times dotted with moments of sorrow. Carl had already known too much sorrow in his young life, so Rick focussed mainly on the good times.

…..

André walked beside his mother as they made their way back from the old tool shed. She had a shovel in one hand, and André's small fingers in the other.

"What are we diggin' for, Mama?" he asked, somewhat excitedly. "Is it treasure?"

She smiled down at him, and said, "Not quite, baby. Well, I guess it's like treasure to me because it's important. I buried it here a long, _long_ time ago."

"Back in the olden days?" he queried, making her smile grow wider.

"Yep," she offered cheerily. "Back in the olden days."

As they reached the spot where, all those years ago, Michonne and Rick had buried the postcards, she took a deep breath. Writing those messages had helped her through her time of grief when she had lost her mother. They _were_ important to her. It marked one of the toughest times of her life, but also, one of the most enlightening. She planned on getting the postcards and taking them with her when she visited her mother's grave in Atlanta. It had been a long time coming, but she wanted to have them turned to ash, and sprinkled on the earth where her mother had been laid to rest. It was a way of truly moving forward.

Michonne found herself becoming quite emotional at the thought. She wiped a finger at the corner of her eye, and then looked at her son.

"Okay, baby," she started. "Step back, and let me dig this hole."

…..

"You think we've got enough butter in there, honey?" asked Sheila of Carl.

The teen narrowed his eyes and stared into the bowl of mashed potato a moment. He reached for a spoon that was set atop the counter, and then dipped it in. Scooping up an ample amount, he brought it to his lips and tasted.

Carl shook his head, placed the spoon back down, and then said, "No, ma'am. We're gonna need more."

…..

"Oh my goodness," said Michonne as she wiped the sweat from her brow. "I was sure it was here."

She placed a hand to her hip, and one on the handle of the shovel as she inspected the wide, fairly deep hole: It was empty. There was no box buried there that contained her treasured postcards. She felt her heart sink.

"Surely, I'm not digging in the wrong place," she said to no one in particular.

She glanced around the backyard and then shook the doubt from her mind.

"Nope; definitely not," she added.

She let out a sigh and then shrugged. There was only one other person who knew where she had buried the box, and that was Rick Grimes. She knew that he still lived in the area, because Sasha had mentioned it, but she was not sure of the best way to get in contact with him. She could wait and call the Sheriff's Department, but they probably would not give out personal details. She could always ask Sasha for his number, since they were still friends, but was worried how that might appear and was not in the mood to explain things. She looked at her son, who was waiting for her to clarify what they were going to do next.

"Come on," said Michonne, finally, as she dusted her hands on her jeans. "We're gonna take a little drive."

…..

Not much had changed, Michonne mused, as she went along the dusty driveway that led to the Grimes Farm. There were still cows out in the paddocks, and wildflowers still lined the side of the road. The main house, and the barns, came into view, and Michonne had a sudden rush of butterflies unleashed into her tummy. She had not been there for almost twenty years. Some of the best times she had experienced in her life were on that farm. After the butterflies settled, a sense of anxiousness enveloped her. Maybe rolling up to the farm was a bad idea; what if he was there? Was she ready to have a conversation without the weight of loss hanging over them? Either way, she did not slow her pace.

Soon, she was parked out the front of the house. She noticed more than one car out there. After taking a deep breath, she told André to wait for her, then strode up the front porch and knocked three times. Jeff Grimes answered the door and it took a moment for them to recognize one another.

"Jeff?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, it's Michonne," she said.

"Ah, yeah, of course," he said with a wide smile. "Hey there. How are ya?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," she said, returning his smile.

"Gosh, it's been years," he offered. "What are you doin' back in town?"

"Yeah, it's been a while. I'm actually back to try and sell the old house," she explained.

"Really? You're lettin' it go?" he asked as he leaned against the doorjamb and scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah," she replied, somewhat sadly, with a nod. "I just don't get back here often enough, or at all, and it's goin' to waste. Best to let someone else have it and enjoy it."

"Lotta memories there for ya," he said. "Can't imagine it's easy to let go."

"Yeah, it isn't," she replied before sighing loudly. "Probably why it's taken me so long to finally put it on the market."

Jeff nodded his head in understanding and then said, "That must be a headache. You'll have a lot of stuff to clear out, too, I'd imagine."

"Yeah, it's amazing how much stuff is still there, and that's kind of why I'm dropping by tonight. Would it be okay to ask for a phone number for Rick? Or possibly an address?" she queried. "There's something important I need to ask him about a few things that were left at the house years ago. He might not even remember, but I really need to check."

"Well, you can ask him right now," said Jeff. "He's here havin' dinner."

"Oh," she said, suddenly feeling slightly anxious, while instinctively smoothing down her clothing. She had not meant to see him face-to-face, at least not this soon. She had intended to make a quick, simple phone call. She was thrown for a loop; her easy conversation with his little brother was just that: Easy. She was not prepared to have a conversation, in the flesh, with the man who had been so many firsts for her. Her first boyfriend; her first love. She was not ready to face him. To say that she was back to sell the house she had spent that fateful summer in. To let go of one of the things that connected her physically to King County; that connected her to her memories of him. She was not ready, not at all, but just like that, Jeff turned his head and called out, "Rick? _Rick?_ It's for you."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Your reviews are much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello, Dear Readers. Wow, thank you all so much for the amazing response to my first chappie. I appreciate the love and support. Your questions will be answered in time, but for now, please enjoy the Richonne reunion.

* * *

_Shit_, Michonne thought. Her heart rate hastened as she heard Rick's footfalls drawing nearer to the door. When he came into view, she felt as if she was frozen in place. He looked _great._ His hair was longer than she had ever seen it; his tidy curls nestled just below his nape. His beard was neatly trimmed with sprinkles of grey throughout. He had aged well, she mused. His eyes were as piercing and clear as the first day she saw them, though a hint of sadness settled behind the blue, causing them to appear darker than she remembered. They grew wide with surprise when he noticed her standing there.

_Shit_, thought Rick when his gaze fell on the woman standing in the doorway of his childhood home. Save for her hair being longer, she looked exactly the same as when he saw her last, almost five years ago. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. A small smile graced her lips as she watched him approach.

"I'll give y'all a moment," said Jeff, as he nodded to Michonne, turned, and then walked by his brother, placing a hand to his shoulder as he passed.

"Hi, Rick," she managed to say gently.

"Michonne," he replied. "Hey."

He stopped in front of her, and then reached out his arms to draw her into an amicable hug. She smelled of jasmine, and her body felt different, but the same, as she pressed herself softly against him.

"Hey," she repeated before they drew apart, somewhat awkwardly. He smelled good; different to what she remembered. He had filled out nicely; his body was much more muscular, and his grasp was firm.

"Wow," he said, as he stepped back and took in her appearance. "You look great."

She smiled at him a little shyly, before saying, "Thanks. So do you."

"What're you doin' here?" he asked, as he scratched his beard. "It's been, what? Five or six years?"

His voice was deeper than she recalled; a little rough around the edges, but still appealing. His southern accent seemed thicker, too.

"Almost five," she offered with a nod of her head. "Look, I'm really sorry for showing up like this, but I was just trying to find a way to get in contact with you because I had a question."

"Did you wanna come in?" he asked, as he shifted to the side and gestured into the doorway. "We're just havin' dinner with my folks, but there's enough food to go around."

"No, thank you," she offered with a courteous smile. "That's nice of you, but I've got my son waiting for me in the car."

"Bring him on in, too," said Rick a little hopefully. "We've got plenty."

"Thank you, Rick," she said. "But we really couldn't impose."

"Alright," he replied with a small smile. "So, you wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yeah, I just needed to know if you had any idea what happened to the box of postcards –"

"That we buried out back of your grandparents' house?"

"Yes," she offered. "I went to dig them up just before, but nothing was there. I figured you were the only other person who knew, so –"

"Yeah, well, I, uh, I actually dug them up," he said a little hesitantly, as he ran his fingers through his greying hair. "I saw the _for-sale_ sign go up next door, and I wasn't sure if your uncle would sell the place before you got the chance to get them. Or if you even wanted 'em. I'm sorry, Michonne. I know it wasn't my place to do that."

"Oh, wow," she said, slightly surprised. "No, no; that's fine. It's a relief. Thank you. It was thoughtful of you. You really didn't have to."

"Yeah, I mean, I didn't want the house to be sold or anything like that before you'd be able to get them. It was buggin' me thinkin' about someone else buyin' the property and possibly ruining them."

"Rick, really, it's okay. I'm glad you did that. It's so kind of you. Thank you."

"Ah, it's nothin'. Don't mention it. I have them at my place," he offered. "Safe and sound. I didn't read them or anything like that. Just holdin' on to 'em until I could find a forwarding address for you. Honestly, I didn't think I'd be seein' you here again. What're you doin' back here?"

She nodded her head and took a deep breath, before saying, "Well, the house was actually left to me, and not my uncle. Some potential buyers will be comin' through to inspect. I'm here to get it ready."

"Oh, so it's your house now?" he queried, surprised by this information. He had thought the house would be left in her uncle's name, seeing as she did not return to King County, even though he thought she might.

"Yep," she offered, feeling a little awkward.

"And you're sellin' it?" he asked, as he leaned his right shoulder against the doorjamb.

"Yeah," she replied. "It's just sitting there, going to waste. Someone should enjoy it the way my family has all these years."

Rick nodded his head in understanding, before saying, "Hey, I wanted to say I'm sorry about Mrs. Johnson," he said in earnest. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral back then. She was a great woman. I really missed her and Mr. Johnson after they left. They were good people. I'm sorry you lost them both."

"Thank you, Rick," she said with a sad smile. "I appreciate you saying that. You know, I wish my son, André would have gotten the chance to know them."

Silence pervaded as Michonne wrapped her arms over her front in a self-soothing way.

"You've got a son, too?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," said Rick with a smile. "Carl. He's fourteen. How old's your little boy?"

"He's six," Michonne said, slightly more cheerfully.

"That's a great age. Their personality really starts to come through then," he said.

"Oh, I believe that," she replied. "He's a quiet, thoughtful kid. Happy to tag along with me; no fuss at all. My little Peanut is a gem."

"He's a lot like you, then?" he asked, remembering what she was like before; wondering what she was like now.

"Maybe," she answered, warmly.

"I remember you being quiet and thoughtful," he added. "I assume that much hasn't changed."

She offered him a shy smile and said, "I think you're getting it mixed up; you were always quiet and thoughtful."

"Maybe," he replied.

A moment of silence passed between them as they glanced at one another.

"So, the cards," said Rick. "Did you want me to bring them by tomorrow? I figure you'd be tired from traveling. Did you get here today?"

"Yeah, today."

"And you're stayin' next door?"

"Yes, back in my old room, which feels so weird," she admitted with a chuckle.

"Alright, then. So, you want me to drop them off to you tomorrow?" he asked, with a glint of hopefulness behind the blues of his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, yes," she said. "That'd be great. Here, let me give you my number, so you can let me know when you'll be coming by."

"Yeah, of course; that's a good idea," said Rick as he took out his phone an handed it to Michonne; their fingers brushed against one another lightly. Rick silently wished it was longer; Michonne swore she felt a spark. She recovered quickly and then typed her number into his phone; she then saved it to his contacts before handing it back.

"So, call or text," she offered. "Either way is fine, and we'll arrange a time."

"How long are you staying?" he asked suddenly, thinking he would like to spend some time with her during her visit.

"Just until I sort out all of the details with the real estate agent," she offered. "Meet with prospective buyers. Decide if it's worth having an auction. A week, or two."

Rick nodded his head, before tilting it to the side. That was a mannerism of his that had endured, she noted. He then kicked the toe of his well-worn boot against the wooden porch slats before saying, "That's good you'll be stayin' a little while."

"Yeah," she replied, as she linked her fingers together. "It will be."

…..

It was just after eight-thirty in the morning when Rick arrived at the Johnson's house. He had a box tucked under his left arm, which contained the postcards, as he knocked on the door. After a moment, Michonne opened it and greeted him. She was dressed casually in a tank top and yoga pants, with flip flops on her feet.

"Hi," she greeted sweetly.

"Mornin'," replied Rick as he held out the box to her.

"Thank you," she said as she took it from him.

"I replaced the box," he explained. "The other one was a little damaged."

"That's sweet of you," said Michonne as she held it to her chest. "Thanks. Can I get you some coffee? There's only instant, but it's hot."

"Thanks," said Rick. "Instant's fine."

"Great," Michonne replied. "Please come in."

Rick accepted her invitation and followed her inside. They made their way toward the kitchen. When they got there, Michonne placed the box on the counter, and then checked to see if the water was still hot enough; it was.

She offered Rick a seat at the kitchen table. He glanced around the room. The last time he was inside the house was after Mr. Johnson had passed away. It still appeared as he remembered, save for some dust that had collected. He suddenly felt quite nostalgic as Michonne busied herself.

"Sugar?"

"Yes, thank you. Place still looks the same," he offered, as he watched Michonne spoon coffee granules into a cup, and then pour in the hot water.

"Yeah," she replied. "I've got a lot of cleaning to do."

"You hire some help? A spot opened up maybe two years ago. They do all sorts of domestic cleanin' at a fair price."

"No way," said Michonne with a laugh, as she turned and brought the beverage to him. "My Gramma would've had a fit if someone else came through and cleaned her house. There's no way I would hire someone and have her haunting me while I'm here."

They each shared a laugh before Rick said, "Good point."

He cupped the coffee mug in his hands and grinned.

"Sasha's out of commission," Michonne said as she took a seat at the table. "So, it looks like it will be just me and my Peanut."

"If you need a hand, I'm happy to bring Carl by to help," he said.

"Oh, Rick, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"It's no trouble at all," he supplied. "We could help you clear out anything you didn't want or need. Get to work in the yard. Wash curtains. Do some dusting. Anything you needed."

"That's kind of you, Rick, but you don't need to."

"I know," he replied. "But I want to. Your grandparents were always good to me and my family. I want to help out to honor them."

Michonne considered what he was saying for a moment.

"Besides," he added. "Your Gramma always put me to work around the place when I was a kid, so I don't think she'd mind if you put me to work now."

He gave Michonne a charming smile and she felt her stomach flutter. He was still beautiful. He was still kind. She still found herself gravitating towards him, even after so many years had passed. If she was going to be spending time in King County, some of it might as well be with him.

"Okay," she said, beaming. "I'd love your help."

* * *

A/N: And so, the next part of their journey begins. Thanks to those who are joining them, and me, as I tell this story.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, or followed this story. Thanks for your ongoing support and for joining me on this journey. This chappie sees Richonne spending some time together. Enjoy!

* * *

The cool lemonade quenched Michonne's thirst as she sat on the front porch of her family's home and looked out across the field. She had her phone placed on the table as Sasha's voice came through the speaker, responding to her friend's news that one Rick Grimes would be helping her clear the old house out.

"You can't see my face right now, but I am giving both of y'all the side-eye," said Sasha.

"He's just helping," she replied. "Since your big ass can barely move."

"Hey!" said Sasha, pretending to be offended. "If my big ass could move, I'd be the first one over there. Slick Rick thinks he's slick. I know what he's doin'."

"Being the neighborly type?"

"Yeah, well, I can't fault you on that 'cause he is exactly like that, but that isn't what I meant," said Sasha. "He's trying to reconnect with you. You're important to him; he just wants some quality time with you."

"I love you, Sasha Stookey, but you've got it all wrong," said Michonne. "Rick is a nice guy, always has been, he's just helping out an old friend, that's all."

"Old friend?" Sasha replied incredulously. "Old friend? You were each other's first love, Michonne. Old friend my ass. You were so much more than that."

"Yeah, when we were teenagers."

"Doesn't matter that you were young. Don't you feel, I don't know, a little excited about this?"

Michonne would be lying if she said she was not feeling the slightest hint of enthusiasm.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe I'm feeling grateful that someone offered to help. And, possibly nostalgic from seein' him after all of these years, but I'm not reading too far into any of it. We were kids then, and it was never gonna last, no matter how much we loved one another, so it's best to leave it in our past. I know that; he knows that."

"Yeah, but it's this amazing love story," said Sasha. "Like the two main characters in those novels you write."

"Uh, you do know I haven't written a novel, yet, don't you? You know I'm a journalist, right?"

"Bitch, you're the editor-in-chief," Sasha replied. "And I'm talkin' about those novels that you've drafted and never sent to the publisher. You know which ones I'm talkin' about. Tell me you haven't written any novels; I _know _you have."

Michonne rolled her eyes playfully and then sighed, before saying, "Can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"Not at all," she replied. "So don't even think about lying to me when I ask how the date went."

"Sasha," said Michonne. "It's not a date; we're getting the house ready. Which reminds me, I gotta go find some boxes for tomorrow. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright," Sasha replied. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

…..

"So, daddy reckons Carl'll be ready to start workin' full days here next summer," said Jeff, as he and Rick sipped from their beers while the cool afternoon breeze whipped up around the barn.

Rick let out a small chuckle, and said, "Took him long enough. How old were we when he put us to work?"

"Same age as Carl?"

"Ya think so?"

"Yeah, maybe," Jeff replied, drinking more from his bottle.

"Nah, I'm sure he had me out here bustin' my ass long before he put you to work," Rick offered with a smile.

"Well, ain't that what big brothers are for?" Jeff asked. "Doin' all the heavy liftin' so the little brother doesn't have to?"

Rick rolled his eyes just his phone vibrated. He saw that it was a message from Michonne. He could not help the smile that spread across his face when he saw her name on the screen. She was asking if he knew where she could find some boxes for packing; he asked his brother.

"We got any spare boxes layin' around the place?"

"Should be some in one o' the barns," said Jeff. "What you need boxes for?"

"I don't need 'em," said Rick while typing a reply. "They're for Michonne."

"That who you're texting now?"

"Yep," he answered. "She needs 'em to pack the old house up."

"Take as many as she needs," he supplied.

"Thanks," said Rick. "I'll take 'em over tomorrow."

Jeff sipped from his drink and eyed Rick.

"I didn't realize the two of you stayed in touch," said Jeff. "I was only a kid, and don't really recall much, but I do remember that one summer when y'all were thick as thieves."

"We were," said Rick. "For one whole summer."

Jeff nodded his head.

"We didn't keep in touch," said Rick. "Not really. Didn't talk to her after I got into the Academy."

"Why not?"

"Long distance thing didn't work out between us the first go 'round," Rick explained. "And then, when she did have the chance to be closer to me in Georgia so we could give it another try, she chose to go to school in New York. I can't blame her for it, though. She did what was best for her future."

Jeff eyed his older brother, noticing the somber look that crept over his face.

"Plus, we were just kids then," Rick added, before sipping once more. "We didn't really know what we wanted or needed. Didn't know where life was gonna take us."

"Well, y'all both ended up back here," said Jeff. "So that's gotta count for somethin'."

Rick shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Yeah. Maybe."

…..

There seemed to be a new sense of awkwardness as Rick and Michonne greeted one another out the front of her family's home. He gestured toward his truck that was filled boxes and said, "I'll bring these in for you, then head on over next door to grab a lawnmower."

"Oh, we can just unload them here," she offered. "You don't need to go to the trouble of bringing them all in for me. You're already doing more than enough."

"Have you lug all o' these on your own? I won't hear of it, Michonne," he said. The way he said her name caused her stomach to do little flips. There was something about the cadence of his voice; there was an appealing gravelly tone that came with maturity. She took a moment to regard him: Everything about Rick was appealing in maturity. She remembered him being a really cute boy, but now, as she really looked at him in the bright sunlight, she realized he had grown into a very attractive man. Memories of his soft, attentive lips came back to her, causing her to lose her train of thought.

"Michonne?" he said again, with his slow, raspy drawl. "You okay?"

"Uh?" she asked, before gathering her wits. "Sorry, yeah. I'm okay."

"Good," Rick replied. "Let's get started on the boxes, and then I'll be back with the mower. Carl, hop on out of truck and give us a hand."

The door opened and the young teen climbed out. He walked around to where his father was standing, and kept his head down while he waited for Rick to introduce him.

"Carl, this here's Michonne. We're gonna be helpin' her out today."

"Hi, Carl," she said happily, as he lifted his gaze; she noted that he and Rick had the same blue eyes. "Thanks for coming with your dad and helping me."

"Hello," he replied. "And you're welcome."

"My son, André is around here somewhere," she offered as Carl nodded his head but said nothing else. Michonne looked at the boy's father and gave him a small smile.

"Right," said Rick. "Let's get started."

…..

Carl and his father worked mostly in silence. The lawn was cut, and the grass and other clippings were placed in the back of the truck. Once they were done with loading it all, Rick stopped and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. He squinted as he looked up at the roof of the house. He imagined the gutters had not been cleaned in a while.

"Son, go to the shed and get the ladder for me, then meet me around the back while I tie this canopy down," said Rick; Carl trotted off and did as he was asked.

As Rick threaded the rope through the holes of the tarp, he heard the screen door of the house open, and then close. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Michonne standing there.

"Everything good out here?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Just gonna haul this load off over to our old place. Jeff'll burn it up in the back paddock with his tree clippings."

"You're going now? Take a break first," she said. "I've got iced tea and cake."

"Tempting," said Rick. "But let me do this first, and I'll be right back."

…..

The sun hung low in the afternoon sky. Rick and Michonne sat out in the backyard and watched Carl and André play with the puppy Rick had returned from his family's farm with.

"Thanks for this," said Rick as he finished off the cool drink.

"Oh, please, it's the very least I could do," Michonne replied. "You and Carl have been amazing today. We got so much done in such a short amount of time."

"Yeah, don't even mention it," he said. "Things run at their own pace around here."

"I remember that," she said nostalgically. "That's one of the things I miss the most. I was never in a hurry here, not like where I am now. It's always deadlines and schedules, ya know what I mean?"

"Absolutely," said Rick.

"I miss just taking it easy," she said. "Even now, there's a deadline to get the house packed up. But having you and Carl here has been so helpful. I miss that, too."

"What's that?"

"The small-town generosity," she explained. "How people are willing to help without getting a thing in return."

"Yeah, I look at it this way: We're all we've got out here, so we might as well share."

Michonne smiled at Rick and nodded her head.

"I like that," she said. "I'm gonna write that down."

She took out her phone and started typing into her notes.

"Oh, so you're quotin' me now?" he teased.

"Yes," she replied with a flirtatious tone. "You've got some deep wisdom, Rick Grimes. Someone should record it."

"Hey, anytime you want to interview me, just say the word," he responded happily.

"I just might," said Michonne, as they both held one another's gaze.

"Mama!" said André, interrupting the moment the adults were having.

"Yes, baby?"

"Can we get a puppy?"

"Oh, honey, we don't have a room for a puppy," she said with a frown.

"Well, can we move here and that way we'll have all the room for all the puppies?"

Rick watched their interaction and smiled, thinking that Michonne's young son had some really good ideas.

"André, we'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Okay, Mama."

Michonne glanced at Rick who was sipping from his iced-tea.

"You're gonna have this child pestering me for the rest of our visit," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"Bringing that cute puppy back here," said Michonne. "Now I'll never hear the end of it. Thanks, Grimes."

Rick shrugged and Michonne pretended to be annoyed with him.

"You're welcome," he said with a teasing grin. They were flirting and he was thoroughly enjoying the moment. They stared at one another for a while longer, until Michonne finally spoke.

"I tell you what," she said. "I do not miss the heat out here."

"At least there are ways to keep cool," said Rick.

"That's true."

"Have you taken André to swim in the river yet?"

"Oh, no," she said seriously. "He's too little."

Rick nodded and then said, "Yeah. When I think back to the things I got up to as a kid, I'd be horrified if Carl ever did half of those things."

"He's a really nice boy."

"Yep," Rick agreed. "He's a good kid. So is André, so if you ever need to get him outta your hair for a minute while you're here, me and Carl'd be happy to take him fishin' or something like that. A ride in the squad car could be fun."

"That's really nice of you to offer, Rick," she replied in earnest. "But he can be a handful and I wouldn't want to trouble you."

"Well, in that case, you could come too," said Rick. "We could all go spend some time together. Down by the river sounds good considering the heat. Y'all wouldn't have to swim. The boys could skip rocks and me and you could just dip our toes in a little. What d'ya think?"

He tilted his head to the side and kept his eyes locked on hers.

_Wow,_ Michonne thought. _Was he always this damn charming?_

"Just our toes?" she asked, unable to keep the smile from her face, and already eager to take him up on the offer.

"Yeah," replied Rick, as he licked his lips. "We'll dip 'em in – just a little."

* * *

A/N: The next chappie sees Richonne back at the river where they had some enjoyable times in their youth. Will it stir up those familiar feelings from the past? More to come soon!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello, Dear Readers. Sorry for the extended wait. I hope you enjoy this short interlude.

* * *

The relentless Georgian heat convinced Michonne that they should probably go for a swim at the river and not just dip their feet. She could easily get some flotation aides for André and let him enjoy the water just like she had in her youth.

She sent a message to Rick, after he had left, asking if they could have a swim followed by some afternoon refreshments. He thought it was a great idea and sounded quite keen, much to Michonne's amusement. It was almost time for them to all catch up, and Michonne realized she did not have a bathing suit. Luckily, Sasha was nearby and always willing to help out a friend.

"I feel like a teenager again," said Michonne as she rummaged through Sasha's collection of bathing suits.

"Didn't we have some fun times at that river?" said Sasha nostalgically.

"We sure did. But that was then, and this is now," Michonne offered as she held up the top of a two-piece suit to her chest.

"If you wear that, Rick will have a heart attack," Sasha teased.

"I'm not wearing this," Michonne replied. "I'm not even sure if I'm gonna swim now. I know I told him we should, but it'll probably just be us dipping our toes in while the kids swim. Ya know, just us hangin' out while they enjoy themselves."

"Right."

"Why do you say it like that?" asked Michonne.

"Like what?"

"Like you don't believe a damn word that I'm saying."

"Because I don't believe you."

"You really think I'm gonna dive into the river with Rick Grimes like I'm some teenager?"

"I know you're not getting your hair wet," Sasha said with a laugh. "What I meant was, you're not just dippin' your toes in with him, Michonne; or just hangin' out while the boys have fun. This feels like a date. You're going on a date with Rick. That's diving in, not dipping your toes."

Michonne gave her friend a playful roll of her eyes.

"I can't wait for this baby to arrive."

"Girl, me too."

"Then you'll be so busy that you'll stop getting these ideas in your head that aren't true."

Now Sasha rolled her eyes playfully.

"Whatever," she replied. "We'll see what's true and not."

…..

When Michonne and André had arrived at the river, Rick and Carl were already there. It hadn't changed much, Michonne mused, save for the fluctuating water levels. Though, it appeared to be a little lower than she remembered. Smaller, somehow. Maybe everything in her youth seemed larger and grander. Maybe now, in maturity, everything that her youthful eyes witnessed had paled.

Rick spoke and got her attention. She took in his profile as he squinted out across the water.

_Hmm_, she mused a beat. Rick certainly had not paled; his good looks had persisted and so had his gentle demeanor. She was drawn from her thoughts when he said her name.

"Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

"I said did you wanna set the blanket down here or closer to the water?" he asked, with a half-smile on his handsome face.

"Hmm, probably best not to sit too far away for safety reasons," she said. "Though, I'd say it really hasn't changed that much down here, so the boys should be okay to play around near the bank."

Rick laid out the blanker, and they took up a seat. Michonne took a deep breath and then added, "It still smells the same."

"Yeah," said Rick as he took in her features; she still looked so beautiful, he mused. "Smells like lazy summer afternoons – and youthful hope."

Michonne gave him a sweet smile, "Wow. I don't recall you being so poetic with your words."

"What?" he asked, with a grin and a tilt of his head. "I can't be articulate?"

He was joking, of course, but Michonne grew serious and replied, "I never said that. I always thought you were articulate, Rick. You've got this honest, down-to-earth eloquence that's hard to put into words. I've always liked that about you."

The pair held each other's gaze before Rick's lips turned up into a smile and he said, "I've always liked just about _everything_ about you."

Michonne playfully shook her head, noting his flirtations just as André approached.

"Mama, Carl showed me the rope swing."

"Nuh ah," said Michonne. "No way you're goin' on that thing. You can hop in here and stay close to the bank."

André let out a huff and then turned to call out to Carl, "See, I told ya she wouldn't let me. I never get to do anything fun."

He pouted in her direction, mostly for show, but there was a hint of disappointment behind his big, brown eyes that hurt her heart. Michonne grasped her son around the waist and drew him down into a hug before she tickled his sides.

"You're too little," she said, as she peppered his face with kisses and continued to tickle him. The child let out bursts of giggles as he tried to free himself from his mother's hold.

"Hey," said Rick as he interjected. "What if Carl helped André up on the banks, and I waited in the water to catch him? Would you let him have a go then?"

André and Michonne stopped and looked at Rick; the boy was suddenly excited, his mother, a little apprehensive.

"Can we do that, Mama?" he asked. "Please?"

Michonne glanced at her son, then at Rick, before saying, "I don't think Rick has even brought a bathing suit."

"I got shorts in the car," Rick said with a crooked grin.

"Is it safe?"

"Safe enough under supervision," said Rick in earnest. "I used to do it for Carl all the time when he was André's age. Besides, it's best to let him have a go at it while we're here to watch out for him. What d'ya say?"

"Yeah, Mama," said André, thinking he really liked his mom's friend. "Can we do that?"

She looked at her son, then at Rick. They were both giving her puppy dog eyes and it was absolutely unfair of them.

Rick stared into her eyes, and then said, "Come on; you can trust me."

"Okay," said Michonne with a small nod of her head. "Okay."

…..

When André did a run-up and swung from the rope, Michonne felt like her heart was going to leap from her chest. It was like he was moving in slow motion, but also going too quickly. He did not get as much momentum as Carl did just moments prior, but it was high enough to make Michonne a little nervous.

Rick was right. She needed to let her son try things while she was there to supervise. That was a way of life out in rural Georgia: You let youngsters learn early on in life so that they'd be adept and safe later in life. There were so many things she would not even dream of letting her child do in New York. It just was not feasible or safe. Out there, beside the flowing river, with Rick and Carl helping to watch over André, she could allow him to do something that was fun.

She let out a small squeak as André let go of the rope and glided through the air toward the water and to Rick. Rick, making an expert judgement about trajectory and velocity that only a dad could make, backed up in the water. He held out his arms, while still giving the small boy room to land. André, giggling and whooping the whole time, hit the water with a splash. Michonne covered her mouth, stifling a laugh and some kind of concerned yelp at once. Immediately, Rick scooped André out of the water and lifted him up high.

"You okay, buddy?" Rick asked as the child wiped the water from his eyes and shot him a bright smile.

"Yup," he said, as he gripped onto Rick, before turning to look at his mother. "Mama! Did you see me go?"

Michonne placed her hands over her heart and smiled widely.

"Yes, Baby," she called out. "I saw you! You were great."

"Can I go again?" he asked, as Rick helped him back to the bank.

"Yeah," she said, while giving Rick a grateful grin. "Go again."

…..

As the sun hung low in the afternoon sky, and a soft breeze picked up, Michonne was now in the water. She watched while André sat up on Rick's shoulders as the two of them and Carl played a game with a ball. She hadn't seen her child laugh so much in so long. It was nice. Every so often, her eyes would find Rick's stare, and he would smile at her. Michonne could not deny that there was an ease to their interactions that felt so familial. The whole setting was so familial that it made her skin feel warm, even though the cool water was surrounding her.

"André," said Carl suddenly. "Wanna get somethin' to eat?"

The younger boy looked at his mother; she nodded, and he said, "Okay."

Rick lifted André from off of his shoulders, and then said, "Hop on Carl's back."

Once André was secure, Carl swam to the edge of the river and they both got out and made a beeline for the picnic basket. Michonne watched them with a contented smile; Rick watched Michonne. He floated closer to her, and then submerged himself under the water. When he popped back up, he was a little nearer to her. She did not seem to mind as they shared an easy grin.

"This is nice," said Rick as they each bobbed next to one another.

"It is," she replied. "I'm glad we did it."

"Me too," said Rick, before dipping his head under the water once more.

When he resurfaced, he was careful not to splash Michonne; he remembered how she did not like getting her hair wet. Even now, though her pretty locs were pulled up high and away from her face, she didn't submerge herself like he had.

Rick wiped his eyes and continued to tread water as they stared at one another silently. Suddenly, Michonne said, "Aw, look at your hair."

"Eh?"

"It's messed up. Come here," she said, gesturing for Rick to shift closer; he did not waste time and moved toward her. She reached her hands out of the water and brushed the wet curls away from his face, before fixing them back into place.

Rick had to fight the urge to close his eyes at the delightful feeling of Michonne's fingers threaded through his tresses. He missed her touch as soon as she withdrew her hands and said, "There. That's better."

Their eyes locked as they floated in front of one another. His bare knee brushed up against her thigh under the water; he maintained the contact. When she did not pull away from him, he inched closer. The afternoon sun shimmered on the river's surface and danced in Michonne's beautiful, brown eyes. When she gave Rick a small, coy smile, he felt like he was seventeen again.

He felt like it was a lazy summer afternoon full of youthful hope from their past. He felt like there was still something there between the two of them, even though so much time had passed. When Michonne's eyes fell to his lips, and she bit her own bottom lip lightly, he knew she at least felt some of what he was feeling. He returned her smile and leaned forward, pleased to see that she, too, was closing the distance between them. They were definitely having a moment, and Michonne was excited, and a little scare. Rick was just happy they were on the same page.

"Dad!" called Carl suddenly. "You said there were PB and J and there aren't any! Dad!"

"Damn it," said Rick under his breath. "At the bottom of the basket, Son!"

"Where?"

"Dig down to the bottom," said Rick. "I packed 'em. I know I did."

When he turned back to face Michonne, she was already floating away.

"We should get somethin' to eat, too," she said, her expression looking apologetic.

"Yeah," said Rick with a nod as he followed behind her; and just as quickly as it had come, the moment between them was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I'm sorry it's taken forever to get to this. I think you're all going to enjoy this instalment. Please do let me know how you liked it. This chapter sees Rick take some initiative and Richonne make an arrangement. Enjoy!

* * *

There was something about the river that, after spending a day swimming and frolicking, made one feel tired. But not in a bad way; not where you are completely exhausted. In a way that feels good, as if all of your worries have been washed away in the forgiving stream. Where you feel light inside of your sun-kissed form, and just want to let sleep take over. That's how Rick and Michonne's children felt, respectively. The water and sunlight had slowly replaced their excitable energy with the need to sleep.

André clung to his mother as she and Rick walked side-by-side as she made her way back up the bank to her vehicle.

"He looks like he's ready to hit the hay," said Rick with a smile, gesturing down at the small boy.

"Yeah, he is," said Michonne. "Probably about to be grumpy if I don't get him home soon."

Rick nodded his head in understanding.

"Yeah, I reckon Carl might need a shower and somethin' to eat," he replied. "Then bed."

"That sounds like a good idea," Michonne proffered as she placed the key in the ignition and turned it on so that André could have the A/C on while he waited for his mother to finish talking to her friend.

_Friend_, she thought to herself. _Is that what Rick was? Neighbor, probably; but, friend? After everything they went through in their youth. _

It all felt kind of strange.

"I had a good time today," said Rick with that smile she loved, drawing her from her thoughts.

"Me, too."

"Can I see you again?"

"Rick, I – what are we doing here?"

"Hangin' out together, like old times, before you go," he replied.

"Like old times?" she repeated. "Do you remember what we used to do?"

"Course I do," Rick answered as he shifted the weight from one foot to the other. "How could I forget?"

Mirth danced in his clear, blue eyes as his gaze fell to Michonne's lips. Her skin felt warm, but not from the Georgian sunshine. She cleared her throat and then spoke once more.

"I'm not just talkin' about the lazy days down by the water, Rick," she said, hoping that he understood what she was saying.

"Oh, I know what you're talkin' about," he said, as he stepped a little closer. "And if it's okay with you, I'd very much like to rekindle it all. The lazy days. The _nights._"

The flush of warmth went to Michonne's face as a different type of heat pooled elsewhere.

"You know I'm not here for a long time," she explained again.

"I know," said Rick in hushed tones. "You weren't here for a long time back then, either. So, I'm just gonna put it out there: Can I see you while you're here? I know you felt that earlier, when we were in the water."

She nodded her head.

"I'm too old to waste time," said Rick. "So, I'm bein' straight with you. I wanted to kiss you, Michonne. Hell, I still wanna kiss you. And, if you be honest with yourself, I think you'll find you wanna kiss me, too."

"Shit," she said, with a little nervous chuckle. "You really are keepin' it straight with me."

"I don't know how to be any other way," he said, his gaze soft. "If you want to, I'd really like for us to be together for a little while, just until you leave. No strings attached. What d'ya say?"

Michonne bit her bottom lip and then gave Rick a sweet smile before saying, "Yeah, I'd like that."

xXxXx

It was quiet at the Johnson house without their children around. Rick left Carl at Jeff's place, and André, still tired from his day out, was in bed early. Rick and Michonne sat outside sipping wine out on the front porch. The sun had dropped, causing flashes of orange, pink, and purple to caress the darkening sky. The scent of ripe peaches wafted across the expanse and Michonne was reminded a moment of her youth. The house still felt like home to her, no matter how long she had been gone, and how far she had travelled. Having Rick sitting next to her made her nostalgia that much stronger.

Their conversation was easy. They spoke a little about their lives. Michonne opened up about her marriage, and how she and Mike split up. They realized that they just didn't fit together with their work schedules; he travelled a lot as a journalist.

"He sees André when he can," she said. "I wish it was more, but, what can you do? They love each other, and that's all that matters."

"That's good that they have a relationship," said Rick, suddenly going quiet.

She was not going to press Rick about his wife and her passing. She simply took a drink from her glass and stared out over the grounds of the property.

"It's okay to ask me about her," said Rick suddenly, causing Michonne to glance sideways at him. "About Lori."

Michonne nodded her head, cleared her throat, and then asked, "What happened?"

"We had a few good years," he said softly. "Married too young, probably. Had a few problems, like all couples, I guess. Thought havin' another kid might fix it. That didn't work out so well. She had complications with the baby. Lost both of 'em at the same time."

"Oh, Rick," said Michonne, placing a hand to his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," he replied. "Had a rough few years, but I'm good, now; Carl's doin' okay. Time passes and you focus on what you need to do. That's how I got by. Counselling helped, too. Me and my boy, we're alright now."

"That's great, Rick," she said, gifting him with a gentle smile. "I'm sorry that happened to you, but I'm so pleased you got through it. You've been through a lot."

He nodded his head and said, "Thank you."

Silence floated between them and weaved in and out of the awkwardness. They finished their drinks and Michonne poured them another. Suddenly, Rick spoke again.

"I don't hold it against you, ya know," said Rick. "The fact that you chose to move so far away."

"For college?"

"Yeah, for everything."

"Thank you. And I – I'm sorry," she replied as she exhaled loudly. "I was a kid. I was hurting. And you were great. But I guess I knew, even back then, that we wouldn't last. There was a whole big world out there for us to see. I don't regret anything."

"I do," said Rick. "I regret not going to you after you left."

Things grew quiet between them for a beat. There was something cathartic about speaking of the things from their youth that hurt them. The things they regretted. The things that could have been.

"Who knows where we could've been if I did," he added, with a smile.

"Um, probably sittin' on my Gramma's porch drinking wine," said Michonne with a chuckle.

"I really am glad you're here, now," said Rick as he reached over and took hold of Michonne's hand.

She gave his hand a squeeze and then said, "Yeah. Me, too."

A comfortable silence passed between them before Rick broke it with a question.

"Hey, do you remember the first time we kissed?"

Michonne felt her tummy do little flips.

"Yeah," she said. "We were in the back of one of your friend's truck – Shane Walsh, right?"

"That's right," he offered.

"Right, so we were stargazing in the back of Shane Walsh's truck, and you called me pretty and then kissed me."

They both let out a little chortle.

"You were smooth back then," said Michonne.

"I'm still smooth," said Rick.

"Some things never change, uh?" she replied.

"And some things do," said Rick, as he repositioned himself so that he was facing Michonne.

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, feeling the mood shift. "Like what?"

He tilted his head to the side and regarded her a moment, before saying, "You were definitely pretty back then, but to look at you now is just – _wow_. You're beautiful, Michonne. Prettier than those stars and Greek myths you told me all about. You're stunning."

She could not help the bright beam that crossed her face at his words. The soft glow of the porchlight caressed his features, and she saw the sincerity in his deep, blue eyes.

"Wow," said Michonne, scarcely above a whisper. "Still smooth."

They shared a little laugh before Rick grew serious again. He lifted his hand and brought it to Michonne's face. She leaned into his palm and glanced at him through her lashes. Her heart was beating a hundred miles a minute and her tummy continued to do somersaults. Rick's gaze dipped from her pretty brown eyes to her full lips as a smile played on his. He leaned in, cupping her face, and gave her a sweet yet tentative kiss. Their eyes closed as Rick deepened the kiss. It took a moment to become reacquainted with one another's lips, but when they did, it was like old times.

Rick shifted so that he could be closer; Michonne threaded her fingers through his hair. He tasted of the wine they were sipping; she tasted of summer delights and home. Rick thought his heart was going to leap from his chest after she broke the kiss. They pressed their brows together and caught their breath.

"So," said Michonne, as she pulled back to stare into Rick's eyes. "You definitely got better at that."

Rick ran his thumb over her bottom lip before saying, "I got better at a _lotta_ things, darlin'. Just you wait and see."

xXxXx

Michonne was not sure how they had gotten from the front porch, back inside, but only made it to the sofa in the living room. However, it had happened, she was on her back with Rick lying on top of her. His lips and tongue exploring hers as his hand trailed along the curves of her body. When he brought his lips to her neck, he would whisper in her ear just how attracted he was to her; he would whisper exactly what being with her was doing to him. His attentions, and eagerness to give voice to his excited state, caused her to feel less like she recalled her teenage self would have, and more like a grown ass woman.

When she wrapped a leg around his waist and brushed her center against his arousal, Rick cursed out loud.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, filled with desire. He gripped her thigh and ground against her before capturing her mouth with his once more.

Michonne's head was swimming in a lust-filled haze. She could not believe that, after all this time, she was making out with Rick Grimes in her grandparents' house, no less. Her whole body was alight as he touched her and kissed her and told her how much he wanted her.

When Rick's hand slid between her thighs, she thought she was going to melt.

"Is this alright?" he asked, as his sure palm brushed against her mound.

"Hmm," was all she could manage as she bit her bottom lip. He smiled and rubbed her through the fabric of her pants as he sucked at her neck once more.

"How 'bout now?" he whispered, his breath hot on her skin, while he slipped his hand under the waistband of her pants. She mewed a little when his rough skin ghosted over the scantness of her panties.

"Yeah," she breathed. "That's nice, Rick. That's real nice."

He massaged her until her underwear was damp from her arousal. Then, he brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her hungrily as his fingers found their way into her panties.

"Fuck," said Rick against her mouth as he felt the heat between her thighs. "You're so wet."

"Yeah, because of you," she replied, teasingly.

He smiled and then dipped his finger between her glorious folds. He trailed her juices up to her throbbing little nub before he massaged her there.

"Hmmm," she moaned, as she dug her nails into his arm. "Shit, _Rick_."

He thumbed her clit before plunging two fingers inside of her sweet sex, and whispering, "Hmm. Say my name again."

"_Rick," _she moaned as he pumped his skilful fingers in and out, again and again.

"God, you sound so good," he said. "You feel so fuckin' good."

"I wanna feel you, too," she said, barely able to contain herself as he continued working his magic. "But not here. Let's go up to my room."

Rick kissed her lips once more, before withdrawing his hand from between Michonne's legs. He took his damp fingers and ran his tongue over them, before sucking them into his mouth. Michonne almost came undone at the sight of him tasting her juices that way. It made her more eager for what was to come.

"Hmm," said Rick with a devilish grin. "Tastes even better than I remember."

Michonne smiled back at him; there was definitely going to be benefits to their little arrangement now that Rick was a grown ass man with a few more tricks up his sleeve. A man with a few more years of experience under his belt, but with the same look in his eyes that was present in their youth: Desire and adoration.

The anticipation was so thick in the air that they scrambled quickly to move off the couch and get to the bedroom. Michonne took hold of Rick's hand and began to lead him toward the staircase. She giggled as he got behind her and kissed her neck as they walked. Just as they began to ascend, they heard a little voice.

"Mama? Mama I don't feel so well."

They each glanced up to see André standing at the top of the stairs looking quite pale and unwell. Rick let go of Michonne as she made her way up to her son quickly.

"Aww, you're not feelin' good, baby?" she asked. "Where does it hurt?"

"My tummy," André replied as Michonne sat on the top step and placed a hand to his forehead.

She glanced back down and gave him an apologetic look.

"Raincheck?" she asked, as Rick nodded his head.

"Yeah," he said. "Hope it ain't serious."

"Probably too much sun and water," said Michonne.

"I hope you feel better real soon, buddy," Rick said to André.

The small boy gave a weak smile and nodded his head.

"I'll let myself out," said Rick as he and Michonne shared a sweet smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rick," she said. "I'll call you tomorrow."

xXxXx

"You and Rick did what on your grandmama's couch?" asked Sasha as she waddled from the fridge back to her kitchen table.

"Keep your voice down," Michonne said, as she placed her hands to her face.

Sasha waved off her concern and then took up a seat. She placed the pitcher of iced tea on the table; Michonne poured them each a glass.

"We made out and fooled around a little," said Michonne. "Like we were a couple of horny teenagers."

"What the hell?" said Sasha, with a bright smile on her pretty face. "Who made the first move?"

"We both did, kind of," said Michonne. "I mean, we both knew what we were gettin' into, that's why he was there –"

"Hold up," said Sasha, blinking rapidly before raising her eyebrows. "That's why he was there? Are you tellin' me you had a dick appointment with your one-time childhood sweetheart, Rick Grimes?"

Michonne could not help but burst out into laughter.

"Yeah, I guess," she said. "When you put it like that."

"And you just forgot to mention this to me?"

"Well, I was kind of busy setting this up."

"When did you set up this appointment?"

"At the river."

"Wow," said Sasha, with a smile. "Y'all are some thirsty asses. One afternoon of swimming and you're back in the saddle?"

Michonne shrugged, "We're just gonna see each other while I'm here."

"Right," said Sasha, dubiously.

"What?"

"Nothin', it's just that Rick was your first love and all o' that."

"And?"

"And, y'know, those feelings might start to creep back up."

"I'm not a sixteen-year-old girl anymore, Sash," said Michonne. "I can do this. I can have a little fun with Rick while I'm here. It's not that deep."

"Okay," said Sasha as she sipped from her iced tea and looked at her friend.

"Okay," said Michonne as she nodded her head and took a deep breath, as if she was trying to convince herself that she could do it; that she could sleep with Rick, no strings attached, and then leave when the time came.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey, everyone. I'm here with a chapter update. I honestly beat myself up too much about this. I appreciate the support and feedback from everyone, and a lot of the criticisms are valid. However, I am choosing to stand by my original plan for this story. _Red Dirt Road_ was a dreamy teenage existence for our faves. This story shows that people grow up and change; that they make decisions and have to live with them. I hope those who were disappointed with my characterisation and direction will continue to read this. I'm sorry to those readers who were made to wait while I fought with myself. So, here we go. Enjoy!

* * *

After rinsing the glasses she and Sasha had used, Michonne wiped her hands on the towel and retrieved her ringing phone from her pocket. She smiled when she saw Rick's name on her screen.

"Shhh," she said to Sasha. "It's Rick."

Sasha proceeded to do a suggestive dance, albeit with difficulty due to her being very pregnant. Michonne had to hold back a laugh as she took the call.

"Hi, Rick," she said.

"Michonne, hey," he replied. "How's my lil' buddy André doin' today?"

"He's feeling better," Michonne replied, touched by the fact that Rick was concerned about her son. "Just had a little too much sun. Thanks for asking."

"Ah, no need to thank me," he said in earnest. "I was worried about the little guy. Did y'all need anything? I could come by if you did."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you to offer," said Michonne as Sasha made kissy faces at her friend. "We're not at home right now…"

For some reason, Rick liked the way she referred to the old house as _home_.

"…but if you wanted to come by later, that'd be nice," said Michonne. "We don't really need anything in particular, but I know André would love to see Carl. He's looking forward to seeing him again."

Rick nodded his head, even though Michonne could not see him.

"Alright," he said. "Sounds good. And what about you?"

"What about me?" she asked, taking note of the playfulness in his tone.

"You lookin' forward to seein' anyone, too?"

Michonne had to smile and bite her lip. Rick was flirting with her and she found him to be so adorable.

"Maybe," she replied, just as flirtatiously.

"Just maybe?" he asked.

"Okay, maybe a little more than maybe."

xXxXx

It was a little after dinner time when Rick and Carl had come by. The boys watched TV in the living room while the adults sat out on the front porch and conversed.

"They get on so well," Rick pointed out. "Should plan one o' those, what do people call 'em?"

"Play dates?" asked Michonne.

"Yeah."

"I don't think that's necessary," she said with a smile. "You can come over here any time you like."

"Any time?"

"Yep," Michonne replied, noting the change in the mood. "Whenever you like."

Rick instinctively licked his lips. Silence passed between them as he grew contemplative a beat.

"Are you sure you're still okay with this?" asked Rick as he glanced sideways at Michonne. "With us seein' each other while you're here, ya know, given our history?"

"Yes," Michonne replied in earnest. "We're grown ass adults. What happened while we were kids was so important to me. I was in such a sad place. You helped me through it, Rick. You really did. But what came after couldn't be helped. It's part of growing up. We change. We make choices. We make mistakes."

Rick nodded his head in understanding as Michonne continued.

"I chose to move so far away," she reasoned. "I couldn't expect you to follow me. I couldn't expect you to wait for me. You were my first everything."

He smiled gently at her words.

"But that doesn't mean us trying to make it work was actually gonna work. And what we're doin' now doesn't have to be us trying to pick up where we left off."

"Who are you tryin' to convince here?" he asked.

"No one," Michonne replied. "It's just something Sasha kind of said."

"What was that?"

"That feelings might resurface."

"I'll always have feelings for you, Michonne," Rick answered sincerely. "You were my first everything, too. Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think us agreein' to sleep together while you're here cheapens what we had?"

"No, I don't think that for one second," she replied quickly. "What we had was special, but that doesn't mean it was the height of our experience, if that makes sense. There's still so many experiences to be had. This is another one. I'm just glad I get to be in this time and place with you while it happens."

"You don't think any less of me for askin' you to be with me like this?"

"Of course not," Michonne replied as she reached over and placed a hand to Rick's arm. "You're not forcing me to do anything I don't want to do. Truth is I'm not stayin' here forever, so let's make the most of it and have a little fun while we're at it."

…..

Michonne stood with her hands on her hips and watched, in the fading light of the Georgian sun, as Rick made his way down from the old treehouse of their youth. He decided to check it out there and then in case the children wanted to play in it.

"Y'know, this isn't the type of fun I had in mind," she called out as he descended the rickety steps.

"I just wanted to see if it – woah, shit!" said Rick as he lost his footing and fell to the ground with a thud.

"Oh my god, Rick! Are you okay? Shit!" said Michonne in a panicked tone.

"It's okay," he said as Michonne rushed to his side and placed a hand to his shoulder. "My ass broke my fall."

"What ass?" she teased.

"You really gonna insult me when I'm wounded?"

"I thought you said you were fine on account of your ass breaking the fall?" she asked with a playfulness he found adorable.

"It hurts," said Rick, pouting in her direction. "Rub it for me?"

Michonne let out a boisterous laugh and said, "You're so corny."

"So, you're not gonna rub it?"

"Nope, not until we make a date," she said while holding out her hand to help him up.

Rick dusted off his jeans with one hand while holding her grip with his other.

"You want a date-date or a time and place for some ass-rubbin'?"

"I don't know," she answered in earnest. "How about we each get a sitter, make a night of it, and you surprise me?"

Rick pulled her closer and then pecked a quick kiss to her lips before saying, "Alright, sounds damn good to me."

xXxXx

Sasha, André's babysitter for the evening, reclined on the bed and rubbed her pregnant belly as she watched Michonne look at herself in the mirror.

"How easy is it for you to get outta that outfit?" asked Sasha as she tilted her head to the side and took in the light blue sundress.

"Fairly easy, I guess," Michonne replied.

"Come on, you might as well just wear an oversized shirt with no underwear on."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're gonna get laid either way."

Michonne rolled her eyes playfully at her friend and said, "I think it's actually a date-date."

"You think?"

"I told him to surprise me."

"So, it's gonna be like a romantic, candlelit dinner? You being wined and dined?"

"Maybe."

"Interesting."

"How so?"

"This will prove some of my suspicions."

"Should I even ask?"

"Nah," said Sasha with a grin. "You just keep getting ready for this date."

xXxXx

The soft music from some old country song played in Rick's pick-up as he and Michonne drove down the red dirt road near his family's property. They pulled off the road and headed to one of the back paddocks in a secluded area where they would be afforded privacy.

They came to stop in a clearing as Rick turned off the engine and then looked over at the woman beside him.

"I just gotta set some things up and we'll be ready for our moonlit picnic," he said with a smile.

Michonne returned the beam and thought his idea really was a nice surprise meant to emulate the first time they had shared an intimate moment in their youth.

"You sure we'll be completely alone out here?" Michonne asked as she watched Rick climb out of the vehicle and set up a tiki torch nearby.

"Yep," he replied as he lit the torch and then set about unloading a few other things. "Gates are all locked. No one ever comes out here. It's the perfect spot for stargazing."

Michonne smiled and asked, "You need some help with setting up?"

"Nah, I got it. But you can hop on out if you like."

She did as he advised and climbed out of the passenger's seat. She walked to the back of the pickup and saw where Rick had set up a foam mattress, pile of cushions, a picnic basket, and some wine. The warm glow of the torch and the coolness of the full moon gave the whole scene a romantic ambiance.

Rick spread a blanket over the mattress as Michonne remarked, "This is amazing, Rick, and so country I love it."

He let out a small chortle and said, "Thought you'd like it."

"It's very unique. It's so you."

That made Rick smile as he offered a hand to help Michonne up onto the back of the pick-up truck. They got settled, then he poured her some wine before serving her some food as the stars danced above them.

…..

The meal was finished and so was the bottle of wine. Yet, it was not the wine that had Michonne's face feeling warm, but the way Rick's lips felt pressed to her neck as she stared up at the night sky. He brought his kisses back to her lips before shifting so that his body was on top of hers. They broke apart a moment, both breathless, as Rick studied her features in the moonlight.

"That night," he whispered as he stroked her face. "The first time I kissed you. I meant what I said."

"What'd you say?" she queried while threading her fingers through his curls.

"There was no one half as pretty as you."

"Is that what you said?" she asked with a smile before Rick captured her lips with his once again.

"I don't know," he replied as he drew away from her ever so slightly. "But I was thinkin' it. And it's still true now. You're so beautiful, Michonne. God, you're so lovely."

They kissed again as Michonne shifted underneath of him and parted her thighs. Rick shifted so that he was between them. His lips found her collarbone as her hand found its way to his erection pressed achingly against his jeans. Rick's breath hitched when Michonne palmed at his hardness. She went to undo his zipper when he stopped her.

"Rick?" she asked, her voice deep from desire. "Do you want to? You feel like you want to."

"I do," he answered, resting his face in the crook of her neck. "But I didn't bring anything. I brought everything else, but no protection."

Michonne let out a little huff but then stroked his back before saying, "This really was meant to be just a stargazing date, eh?"

"Yeah," he said in his drawn-out southern drawl.

She smiled and then shifted in an effort to sit up as she said, "Damn, I was enjoying where that was heading."

"Hey, now," Rick responded as he gently eased her back into a reclining position. "You still wanna see stars?"

Michonne bit her lip and said, "Yes."

Rick kneeled between her thighs, snaked his hands up under the hem of her dress, and pulled her panties off her hips before saying, "Alright, then."

…..

Michonne had travelled to many places because of her job as a journalist. She had seen and experienced many things in her lifetime. But there was absolutely nothing that compared to what she was presently experiencing: The feeling of Rick Grimes' skilful lips and tongue lapping at her pulsing sex as she stared up at the starry night sky.

"Oh, _ohhhh_," she moaned, unashamedly as her pleasured cries got lost in the vastness of the space surrounding them.

She gripped Rick's hair tighter and rolled her hips as he sucked her sensitive bud between his swollen lips.

"Rick," she murmured as he slipped two fingers inside of her. "_Oh, Rick._"

He withdrew them and continued licking her sweet pussy, humming as he devoured her. He pressed his thumb to her clit before sliding his fingers into her warm, wet center. He curled his fingers and found her spot as he sucked her pulsing nub.

"Hmmmm," Michonne moaned as her toes began to curl.

Her mewls urged Rick on as he sucked and fingered her with more fervor. Soon, Michonne's hips bucked and her eyes closed as she came in Rick's mouth. He drank up the flowing nectar of her climax as she panted and clenched her eyes tightly. Satiated, she vaguely contemplated that the stars she saw when her orgasm washed over her rivalled those that dotted the dark canvas above her and Rick. As she came back down to earth, she mused that there was no one else she would rather see both kinds of stars with.


End file.
